


Maybe next time

by kiarcheo



Series: How they got together - Maybe series [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Berrittana, Berrittana Week, F/F, Multi, Pezberry, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, brittberry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiarcheo/pseuds/kiarcheo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to ‘Maybe never’. Written for the 3rd day of Berrittana week on Tumblr: Jealous!Brittana and/or How They Got Together (Seduction of Rachel Berry, Pezberry into Berrittana, Three Single Girls Coming Together, etc.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe next time

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: T for the swearing and the alcohol and sex references  
> Disclaimer: nothing is mine, unfortunately  
> Warning: puke is mentioned quite a bit, if it squicks you out…
> 
> English is not my first language. Thanks to myxe for the help.
> 
> Also, this fic wouldn’t exist without jt4702’s help. She encouraged me to write it, read it over, suggested improvements…thank you for that…but mostly for being a friend.

“I don’t drink.” Quinn glared at Puck.

“I don’t like wine.” Mercedes shook her head.

“I hate red wine.” Kurt covered his glass with his hand.

“Oh, come on! We need to finish it!” Puck brandished the bottle in the air. “Rachel?” He looked at her.

“Why not?” She shrugged, and then looked at her plate in mild disgust. “It may help me to wash down this… thing.”

“Hey, I made it!” Finn protested. “And it’s good, isn’t it?” He looked around for confirmation.

Rachel skillfully ignored him, paying attention to her food instead.

“Rach, another one?”

Santana loved Rachel, she really did, but she still didn’t understand her need to go all rabbit food on them. She was also pretty sure that just the smell and the sight of Finn’s pitiful attempt to cook would make anybody change their minds, but no, not Rachel. The girl was too damn stubborn.

“Yes, please.” The diva held out her glass, with an expression on her face that made Santana chuckle at the cuteness. Then she looked around wildly, sighing in relief when she was sure that nobody noticed it.

 

“Vodka!” Puck exclaimed, slamming the bottle on the table.

“Me! Me!” Rachel raised her hand excitedly.

“You need to empty your glass first,” Puck said as he waved the bottle back and forth in front of Rachel’s face.

Rachel grimaced at her glass full of cheap red wine. She felt like she had drunk the entire bottle by herself… well, with some help from the others too, but she had drunk the majority. She took a sip when she noticed Puck pouring the vodka.

“Hey, don’t finish it!” she protested.

“Then you need to hurry.” Puck smirked, continuing to pour it, since everyone except Quinn was drinking this turn.

Rachel took a big gulp, finishing her wine, before slamming down the glass on the table and sliding it towards Puck.

“You make me proud,” Puck said to Rachel, grinning.

“She’s cool,” Brittany announced to the table, “and hot!” She cuddled into the shorter girl, who was sitting next to her. If it were up to Brittany, she would be sitting on her lap, but her girlfriend insisted that it wasn’t appropriate for dinner, even if they were amongst friends.

“Yeah, she’s not so bad.” Santana said, eyes avoiding the sight of her best friend and the girl she loved snuggling.

“Us hot Jews are totally badass,” Puck drawled, and then—“Whoa, Rach. Slow down!”

“What? It was just a finger.” Rachel looked down into her empty glass.

 

“Another one, Berry?” Santana asked, surprised and somewhat in awe, but also a little worried. Rachel was so little. Drinking so much couldn’t be healthy. She knew from Brittany that Rachel wasn’t a stranger to alcohol, but still. Plus, she was curious to know how Brittany convinced her prim and proper girlfriend, who lectured everyone on the dangers and the consequences of underage drinking, to drink, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Will you drink with me, Santana?” Rachel asked.

Puck hurried to put two glasses in front of them as Santana stared at her. Her name never sounded as good as it did than when it was falling from Rachel’s lips, her voice taking a lower tone. Santana couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Rachel sounded in bed, even if the rational part of her brain was telling her that Rachel probably just lowered her tone as to not aggravate the pounding she was surely starting to feel in her head.

“Wait!” Brittany yelled as soon as they grabbed their glasses. “Cross your arms.”

“What?” Rachel and Santana looked at her in confusion, with Santana a little paranoid that Brittany had somehow heard her thoughts. The blonde was known to be extraordinarily perceptive at times. Or maybe it was just because Santana was easier to read when alcohol was involved.

“Like that,” the blonde said, moving their arms so that their arms were linked together, like when newlyweds make the toast at their wedding.

Rachel looked at Santana to see if she was uncomfortable. After all, it’s not like they were married… Her eyes widened at the thought and she forgot what she was thinking about, at the same time as she realized she was tipsy.

Santana knew that if Rachel had been uncomfortable with their position she would have let everyone know, loudly, so she focused her gaze on Brittany. She quickly dismissed the possibility that the sometime ditzy girl had done it to taunt her as the blonde seemed completely unfazed by her best friend pretending to be married with her girlfriend. Santana shook her head to dismiss the thoughts and her action was mirrored by Rachel, who for once decided that she didn’t care about anything else than having fun.

“Come on!” Brittany egged them on.

Rachel looked around and chuckled to herself. The only time when the New Directions seemed to have fun together, drama-free, was when they got wasted. She needed to remind herself to congratulate Brittany for coming up with the idea and for offering her cabin for this party. Surrounded by the woods, it was isolated enough that they didn’t have to worry about being too loud and disturbing neighbors, and even if the two rooms didn’t have enough mattresses, they had enough to put together for all their sleeping bags. That way, no one had to be a designated driver or drive home drunk—

“Who wants the last shot?” Puck asked, bringing Rachel out of her thoughts.

“Me!” Rachel shouted as both her hands shot up, along with her whole body, before she fell back on the chair, uncoordinated. She yelped in surprised when the chair nearly toppled over due to her inebriated state.

“Jesus Christ, Rach!” Santana, who was drunk enough at the moment not to care about calling the girl anything else than Berry out loud, thus letting slip her hidden affection for the girl, covered her ears at the shrill shout. “Are you trying to rupture my eardrums?”

Rachel huffed. “I’ll let you know, Santana, that it would be impossible for my voice, despite being able to reach very high notes, to—”

“Do you want it or not?” Puck interrupted her, hoping to prevent a rant with the allure of alcohol.

“I thought I made myself clear, Noah, but I’ll repeat it if I have to. I want it, I desire it,” Rachel said dramatically, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You desire it?” Kurt chuckled.

“Desire,” Rachel repeated. “You know what that means, Kurtsies? Longing, wishing, yearning, craving, wanting…”

Santana looked around to see if she was only one hearing the drop of tone in Rachel’s voice. Brittany dilated pupils and Finn’s chanting of “mailman” under his breath let her know that the sultry, seductive tone that belonged to one Rachel Berry wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. Kurt’s horrified squeak seemed to wake up Puck from his trance.

“Well,” Puck said, clearing his throat, “you only get it if you down it all at once.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. “Bring it on.”

“Go, Rachel!”

“Do it!”

“Yeah, do it!”

Various cheers from her club members egged her on. She took the glass in her hands. There was more alcohol in the shot than the other times, but nothing that she couldn’t handle, she decided with a nod to herself. She brought it to her lips.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” the others started chanting, while Kurt and Mercedes captured the scene on their phones.

“Aaahh.” Rachel swallowed the last gulp of alcohol and shook her head to clear her thoughts, while everyone cheered.

“Wow, Rach. Didn’t know you had it on you,” Santana remarked, impressed, but also strangely aroused.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Rachel said, licking her lips but not even knowing where the urge came from.

Brittany leaned in to whisper in Rachel’s ear, while eyeing Santana. “But she can always learn, right?” She was trying to be discreet, but her voice was loud enough that the Latina heard it too, if the widened eyes and the hitch in her breathing were any indication.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our dear friend… Mister Jack Daniels!” Puck returned from the kitchen dramatically.

Rachel pulled a face and groaned. “Ugh, I don’t like it.”

“Come on, guys! Don’t be pussies!” Puck looked around. “Rachel?”

“No thanks, Puck. I’m not a fan.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t back down now!”

“No, really, if it was more vodka, I’d do it, but I just really don’t like Jack Daniels.”

“Rachel?” Puck pleaded.

“No.”

“Rach?” His voice was soft and pathetic.

“No…” Rachel didn’t sound so sure anymore.

Brittany and Santana frowned, on the verge of telling Puck to back off and stop pressuring their girl… well, Brittany’s girl.

“My hot little Jewish-American princess?” Puck continued to ask, ignoring the incredulous looks he got at the nickname and the glares he got from, not only Brittany, but Santana, as well.

“Noah,” Rachel breathed out, and Puck smirked. He knew she loved that the nickname. “No,” she said anyway, refusing. Her daddies always told her to never mix drinks.

“Please? Just one for us fine ass Jews…” Puck pouted.

Rachel sighed. “Just one?”

He nodded repeatedly. “I promise.”

“Rach,” Santana and Brittany spoke at the same time, not wanting her to do it if she didn’t want to.

“Just one,” Rachel repeated for good measure, reassuring both the Cheerios and herself. Just one… It wouldn’t hurt if it was just one.

She grimaced as the liquid hit her throat. “Augh,” she groaned. “That tasted like shit!”

Santana laughed raucously, patting her back in what should have been a congratulatory manner but ended up being quite forceful instead.

“What the hell!”

“You’re so hot when you swear,” Santana interrupted Rachel before she could say anything else.

The girl smiled, before drawing her eyebrows together in confusion, because she didn’t just get a thrill out of her girlfriend’s best friend finding her hot, right?

“Where’s Finn?” Rachel asked, trying to distract herself.

“Bathroom,” a voice Rachel couldn’t be bothered to identify said.

Santana and Puck snickered, thinking that the mailman had made a visit. Rachel ignored the strange substance on the table as music blasted from Sam’s computer. Standing up, Sam yelled, “Let’s dance, people! I’m the DJ!”

oooooooo

“Ew.” Mercedes pinched her nose as Kurt handed rags to her and Quinn.

“And what are you doing?” Quinn glared at him.

“I can’t do it. I feel sick just smelling it,” he explained.

“And you think I don’t?”

“But you didn’t drink, so… just do it!”

“He’s your brother!” Quinn argued.

Mercedes sighed and held her breath as started mopping up the vomit on the table. “Can you at least get a floor cloth?”

“I need at least a beer before doing this.”

Mercedes raised an eyebrow at Quinn but said nothing.

“That boy really needs to learn some self-control,” Mercedes muttered. “What?” she asked a snickering Quinn.

“He’s never been good at controlling his urges. Not when he has to puke on a table, nor when he’s in a hot tub and coming in his pants.”

“I so didn’t need to hear that,” Kurt whined as he came back.

“And why we are the one cleaning his mess up?” Quinn said.

“Would you rather just leave it here?” Kurt wanted to gag at the thought.

“Who would do it anyway? Look around,” Mercedes quipped.

Puck had his head buried in Lauren’s chest. Sam was occupied by his DJ duties. Mike and Tina were making out intensely, sprawled out on the other side of the long table. Finn was probably still in the bathroom… And finally, Santana and Brittany were on either side of Rachel, grinding against each other to the beat of the music, their hands wandering inappropriately.

Mercedes was surprised that Puck was ignoring the three girls practically having dry sex in front of him. He was totally whipped.

“I don’t know which sight is more disgusting,” Kurt commented, distracting her from her observations.

“I need to pee,” Santana announced as the music stopped and Sam started frantically searching for a socket to charge his computer.

Brittany and Rachel continued dancing without music, until they heard Santana’s boisterous and slightly hysterical laughter. Brittany left the room too to see what prompted Santana’s hilarity, and curiosity soon made Rachel follow after them.

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked with a grimace, as Brittany, who was holding her phone in her hand to film something, blocked her view of the bathroom.

Rachel closed her eyes as Brittany stepped aside, because she knew her girlfriend and Santana had a past and they used to be nothing short of adventurous when they were together (really, it wasn’t like Brittany shied away from telling Rachel about her past sexual escapades with previous partners, despite the inappropriateness… and if she was being honest, she found the stories hot) so she didn’t think she could handle it if she saw the two doing what she feared they were doing. Not to mention, she would probably kill Santana, despite having had her hands on her boobs and the girl squeezing her ass under her skirt just two minutes ago—

“Barbra Streisand!” Rachel spluttered as the realization of what she had been doing with another girl in front of her girlfriend hit her.

“I know.” Brittany giggled. “S said we can use it as blackmail. Isn’t mail usually white?”

When Rachel saw what Brittany was referring to, she put her hands on her mouth to suppress laughter, her previous panic forgotten.

“Do you need to puke?” the blonde asked, worried. “Because if you do, you’ll probably end up spewing on Finn.”

“Not a bad idea,” Santana said, grinning. She hovered over Finn, who was lying on the floor, his arms circling the toilet.

Rachel took a couple of steps into the bathroom. “Did he really fall asleep with his head in the toilet?”

Santana nodded frantically, and the cuteness of her action made the situation even more hilarious to Rachel, who burst out laughing.

Holding her sides, she tried to sober up. “Maybe we should wake him…”

Santana’s eyes lit up. “Right…” she drawled, and on another occasion Rachel would have been afraid of the look on the Latina’s face, but right now she was utterly amused and curious about what Santana was thinking.

The Latina looked at Brittany to make sure that she was still recording, and then swiftly flushed the toilet.

Rachel attempted to look at Santana as reproachfully as she could, while the girl grinned innocently. “What? I helped him rinse his mouth.”

“Yeah, puke leaves a bad taste,” Brittany added, and Rachel gave up on keeping her laughter at bay. She knew that she shouldn’t be enjoying it and that it wasn’t nice on her part, but it was so damn funny.

A proud smile split Santana’s face at being the one who made Rachel laugh in a way she had never seen and heard her before. Then she started laughing too, her own happiness mixing with Rachel’s contagious laughter.

The Latina started making her way towards the door, but, being drunk and shaking uncontrollably with laughter, she stumbled over Finn’s body, whose yelps went unnoticed, and consequentially fell against Rachel.

The shorter girl was already bent forwards, holding her stomach, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and didn’t see Santana coming towards her, let alone manage to catch her and steady her. They fell on the floor, a mass of intertwined limbs. They looked at each other in silence, before the hooting started again, more enthusiastic than before. Aware of their friends’ cheers, they buried their faces in the other’s neck, trying to smother the sounds, and their hands gripped each other’s clothes tightly in an effort to stop laughing, because it was starting to hurt too.

“Berry? S? Really, guys? Really?” Quinn whisper-yelled. “On the bathroom floor? Other people are present too! Hell, Brittany’s present!” The Head Cheerio wondered for a moment if all she really drank was a beer, because her reaction to the situation was shockingly calm. Brittany’s reaction was too, since she continued to film the scene, apparently not caring that her girlfriend was underneath her best friend. “I mean, couldn’t you at least wait to have your way with her?”

Apparently that was the magic word, because Finn’s head shot up and he turned around, trying to see what was going on. The quick movement prompted another round of vomit, however, and Finn immediately return to his previous position.

“Shooo.” Quinn poked their bodies with her foot. “Out.”

Santana and Rachel half crawled and half crept until they arrived at the door, and used the jamb to stand up.

“B, can you help me?”

“Um…” The taller girl looked confused, still filming everything.

“And can you put that away, please?”

ooooooo

Rachel stumbled out of the house, leaning back against the wall and then sliding down until she was sitting on the ground. She hugged her legs to her chest and breathed deeply, with her head between her knees and her eyes closed while hoping that the fresh air would help clear her head.

“Hey.”

Startled, Rachel raised her head quickly, hitting the wall behind her in her haste.

“Shit—San,” she mumbled, massaging what she already knew would be a bump, before leaning her head, this time gently, against the wall and closing her eyes again, imitating Santana’s position.

“How do you feel?” the Latina asked after a while.

“Not so well,” she answered quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night. “You?”

“Uhm…”

Rachel took the noise as an agreement with her previous statement.

Slowly Rachel stood up, her hand on the wall to hold herself up. She blinked several times.

“I really don’t feel well,” she mumbled, before starting to make her way towards the woods around the cabin. She would have been surprised at how swiftly she was climbed up the slope considering she was intoxicated had she not been so focused on getting as far away as possible from the place before throwing up.

 

“Dios!”

Rachel spun around. “Fuck, Santana. Stop scaring the shit out of me!”

Santana, who was leaning heavily against a tree, didn’t say anything even as hearing Rachel swear did strange things to her body, and just pressed the back of her hand on her lips. She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“I mean, how do we get back?” Santana rolled her eyes, before being reminded that it hurt. She groaned.

“Oh, we go…” Rachel trailed off, looking around. “Um… that way?”

“Why the hell did you have to come here?” Santana grumbled, after they passed in front of what she thought was the same rock for the tenth time. “Couldn’t just puke like a normal person, could you?” she continued berating the girl, her love for Rachel momentarily taking a backseat to her annoyance.

“I had no intention of puking in front of the house. Think of the smell, and… ew!” She stopped before she felt the urge to throw up again. “And in that way it’s all natural, our vomit will enter the circle of life by fer- fert-…ferti…fertilizing the plants…” she trailed off, not even sure how to get the concept that was so clear in her head out into words. “Besides, on the other side there was the road, and we could have been run over. It’s dangerous!”

“Yeah, because walking about at nighttime isn’t…” Santana said sarcastically. “You can’t even see where you’re putting your feet!” Santana proceeded to demonstrate what she was saying by stumbling on a root.

“It’s not like I forced you to come here! You were the one who followed me,” Rachel told her petulantly.

“I should have left you in the wild woods. Maybe you would have gotten lost,” Santana shot back, knowing that it was exactly the reason why she followed her, to make sure that she would be okay.

“I’ll have you know that I have a perfect orientation sense and—wait, wild? There are wild animals out here? I’m going to die! Did you hear that? Wild pigs! Or bears! I’ll never get the chance to grace Broadway stages or meet Barbra and tell her how much she means to me… Oh God, they won’t even find my body so that they’ll embalm it and offer it to the mass devotion. I’ll be mangled by a giant bear, with nothing left of me! Oh my poor fathers! How will they survi—”

Rachel’s panicked rant was stopped by Santana planting a kiss on her lips and involving Rachel’s tongue in an activity that wasn’t talking her ear off. When the lack of air became a problem, they separated, their foreheads touching. Santana still had her hands on Rachel’s cheeks, her eyes closed.

“Well, that wasn’t as disgusting as I thought it would be,” Santana said aloud.

A forceful shove sent Santana sprawled on her back.

“What the fuck!”

“You can’t just kiss a girl and then say that it was less disgusting that you were expecting!” Rachel put her hands on her hips, so caught up in her indignation about Santana’s disgust and lust that she forgot that she should have been more upset about the fact that she just cheated on Brittany and with her best friend too, of all people. “And… wait, you thought about kissing me?” The satisfied expression on her face was soon replaced by a pissed off look. “This is not how—”

“I was talking about the fact that we both puked just…” she trailed off because she wasn’t sure how much time it passed. “I just expected that after puking, kissing would be pretty sick. Literally.”

“Oh…” Rachel smoothed down her skirt, blushing. “Sorry.” She stretched out a hand to help Santana up, but while Santana was getting up she lost her footing, causing the both of them to fall down, their positions reversed from what it was in the bathroom. Rachel planted her hands on either side of Santana’s head. She cleared her throat, looking down at the girl below her, any thoughts of the blonde girl waiting for them back at the party completely forgotten.

“Wanna try again?”

ooooooo

The girls stumbled back down the slope, trying to act as inconspicuously as possible while entering the house. They were relieved to see that nobody seemed to notice their absence and was waiting for them.

Their attention was captured by Brittany, who was waving wildly at them. They exchanged a glance before moving towards her and entering the bedroom. Brittany pointed towards the window. Finn was leaning half out of it, his head resting against his crossed arms on the windowsill. Loud snores filled the air.

Rachel snorted, pressing her face against Santana’s arm to try and suppress laughter. She could feel the other girl’s body shaking with mirth.

Brittany slapped Santana’s other arm lightly. “Shhh,” she admonished her. “You’ll wake him,”

Santana looked at her, and then at Finn again, trying to gauge how serious she was, before she dragged Rachel out of the room, collapsing against the wall in laughter as soon as they were outside.

“Did he really…” the Latina trailed off as another burst of hilarity took over, burying her face into Rachel’s hair. Somehow, they ended on the floor, with the shorter girl sitting between her legs.

“Yes,” Rachel nodded, neither girls registering that the movement caused her face to rub against Santana’s breast.

“I didn’t know they even existed.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Rachel asked.

“Finn’s underwear?”

“Me too.”

“So you find it normal that he has ‘I think I can… I think I can’ plastered on his ass?” Santana tried to keep her facial expression neutral.

“Oh…” Rachel turned her head to look at her. “I thought you were talking about the fact that he had his underwear on the wrong way around,” she said, frowning. “Hey, isn’t that the saying from that story…” she trailed off, scrunching her face as she tried to remember it.

Santana looked at her thoughtfully. “Yeah, The Little Engine that Could.”

They exchanged a glance as they were hit by the realization that while he should have had ‘I think I can…I think I can’ on the front, which was especially embarrassing considering his notorious delivery problems, there was a good possibility that since he put it on backwards, the Little Engine would be covering his manhood.

“Little,” Santana choked out, “Engine.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rachel mumbled, but the little bitterness she still felt faded away as she watched the other girl roaring with amusement.

“Oh my God!” Santana tried to regain her breath. “This is even better.”

“Or worse,” Rachel chimed in.

 

Once they regained their composure, they went back to the room, sat down on the bed and flanked Brittany on either side, wordlessly agreeing that putting some distance between them would be best.

“What happened?” Rachel asked.

Brittany simply took out her cellphone and started playing a video. “This,” she announced, placing the phone in the middle so that both Santana and Rachel could see it.

_Finn was lying on his sleeping bag, reading a comic book. After two heavy sighs, he put it down and covered his eyes with his forearm. He zipped himself in his bag, and then started awkwardly shimmying in what one could guess was an attempt to remove his clothes._

 

Rachel looked over at Finn, still sleeping practically naked, and assumed that he was successful in his quest.

“Why did you film this?” she asked, confused and a little disturbed by her girlfriend’s actions.

“I thought it would be interesting,” Brittany answered calmly, before motioning for them to pay attention to the video again.

 

_“Finn?”_

_He fumbled to grab his comic book and opened it._

_“Finn, are you sure that it’s a good idea to read?” Quinn asked._

_“Don’t worry, I’m fine, I always do it,” he said, and as he talked the camera zoomed in on the comic book, revealing that it was upside down._

_“If you say so.” The blonde was clearly unconvinced, but let it go._

 

“This still doesn’t explain how he ended up like that,” Rachel said, nodding with her head towards the window when the video ended.

“Well, you could’ve just asked,” Brittany scolded her, before presenting them with another video.

 

_Finn was sleeping, when he suddenly jolted up and jerkily tried to open his sleeping bag. He leapt out of bed, his bag remaining entangled between his feet, and stumbled on his way to lean out of the window. The sounds of retching then sounded from the recording._

 

“Maybe we should wake him up and put him to bed?” Rachel suggested after a few moments.

“I’m not touching him,” Santana immediately said. “What?” she asked as Brittany and Rachel looked at her. “He just puked all over himself.”

She sighed and stood up as the girls continued to stare at her. Damn puppyeyes. She took a couple of steps towards Finn, and then turned towards them. Rachel stood up and joined her, taking her hand.

A burst of bravery hit Santana. She was going to show Rachel that she could do it. “Stay behind,” she told Rachel, before she stretched her leg and touched Finn with her foot.

“Is he dead?” Brittany asked seeing that he didn’t show any signs of life.

Santana looked at Rachel.

“Try again.”

The Latina put her arm around Rachel’s shoulder, to have more support, and stretched her leg again, this time her foot hitting him on the ass and pushing until both her and Rachel started to sway.

“Ugh,” Finn grunted, lifting his head.

“Finn, how do you feel?” Rachel asked.

“Fine,” he grumbled, putting his head back on his arms.

“No,” Rachel almost yelled, and he jerked up. “Go to bed. Don’t fall asleep like that.”

He slowly raised himself, turned around and quickly staggered to his bed, collapsing on it without a word and falling asleep immediately.

She didn’t know if it was the smell that hit her once Finn turned towards them, the sight of vomit on the top half of his body, or the thought that he went to bed without cleaning himself, but Rachel tensed and shrugged off Santana’s arm. “I’m going to bed,” she announced and quickly reached the bathroom and locked the door. After all, there were dozens of people there and she had no intention of having people just walk in. She splashed water on her face, knowing that it would wake her up more than anything, and after she dried herself, she looked in the mirror, planting her hands on the sink. She took deep breaths, repeating to herself, ‘I’m okay. I’m going to bed now and everything will be better. I’m okay, I’m ok-”

 

“Rach? You okay in there?” Brittany’s voice sounded from the other side of the door, concerned.

Rachel looked at the toiled bowl in front of her, and rose from her kneeling position. “Yeah.” She flushed the toilet.

“Do you need help?”

“No thanks.” She gargled and spat out the water. “Two seconds and I’m out.” Rachel heard Brittany’s footsteps fade away and looked at her toothbrush, toothpaste already on it. ‘At least I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

ooooooo

Rachel opened her eyes and quickly closed them, internally cursing whoever had forgotten to close the blinds. Even if she was the only one who had chosen to sleep in the second room, not wanting to forego a good night’s sleep on a mattress just to sleep with everyone else in the other room on the floor… well, maybe it was her fault for not closing the shutters. But whatever.

She sighed deeply, immediately spluttered out some hairs that entered her mouth. She passed a hand over her face, trying to move everything away so that she wouldn’t end up with more hair in her mouth, and sighed again. She expected a more traumatic awakening. Maybe throwing up twice had gotten rid of most of the alcohol in her body. She grumbled, feeling a tickling sensation on her face once again. She finally decided to open her eyes, and….wait! Her hair wasn’t that dark! She sneaked a peek at the owner of the eyes and closed her eyes again, this time panicking. Sure, she made out with Santana… well, she did if it wasn’t a dream, but actually sleeping with her?

God, she was so screwed! All those talks with Brittany about being exclusive and not having lady kisses with Santana anymore, and then she was the one to… Her stomach churned, and Rachel was sure that she would be throwing up had she had anything in her stomach to get rid of in the first place.

And there were no way that Santana would let her get away with hurting Brittany like that, even if she was involved just as much as she was. Santana’s double standards were notorious. She’d probably be disgusted and claim that Rachel had taken advantage of her… Maybe Rachel could fake her death.

“I know that you’re awake,” Brittany whispered softly in her ear, apparently mindful of her possible hangover.

Rachel whimpered, her eyes still closed, and Brittany didn’t back away but started nibbling her earlobe instead.

“Even your thoughts are loud.”

Rachel sprang up at hearing Santana’s voice, and realizing then that if they were both there, it meant that her girlfriend - probably ex-girlfriend now - had just found her in bed with someone else. Brittany sneaking an arm around her waist made her lay down again. “Fast movements are bad.”

“And relax, for God’s sake.” Santana’s harsh words didn’t match up with the light caresses Rachel felt on her arm, so she relaxed.

“What are you doing here?” Rachel finally asked. “I thought you were sleeping in the other room with all the others.” That was the plan: to wake up alone and convince herself that everything that had happened with Santana had been a dream… a pleasant one, but a dream nonetheless.

“Please, Kurt and Mercedes’ snores are louder than their diva personalities… and that’s saying something. Plus, the smell of puke in the room…”

“She was worried because you were as green as your sleeping bag,” Brittany interrupted Santana’s rant, revealing her true motivations.

Rachel turned to look at Santana, eyes shining with gratitude as well as something else entirely.

“You can kiss her, you know.”

“What?” Rachel and Santana stopped their staring contest to look at Brittany.

“Last night you kissed each other and you liked it… and now you look like you want to do it again so… do it.” Brittany shrugged, smiling. “I always thought you two would be so hot together.”

“So, you’re… okay with it?” Santana clarified, and Rachel was relieved that Latina asked exactly what she was thinking.

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s hot. I mean, I wish you invited me too.” She frowned for a moment, before smiling again. “Maybe next time?”

 


End file.
